Birth of a Dark Nation (34 page)

"Hi," she said coyly.

"Uh…hi," I said back.

"I'm just gonna sit next to you," she
announced, squeezing her slender frame between Victor and I, all
but popping him off the couch altogether.

"So, are you like…my brother's
boyfriend?"

"Jesus, Sarah," Justin said.

"What? You've been out since practically
middle school; I know you're not embarrassed."

Justin rolled his eyes and exercised his
right to remain silent.

"We're together," I finally said.

"I figured it was you," she whispered. "He
always liked them boys with long hair. But rough, you know? You got
that streetwise look about you. Still handsome, though."

She reached out and patted my dreadlocks,
which had been neatly pulled into a ponytail. I felt my face get
warm with embarrassment.

"Excuse me," Justin said. He ran down the
long hallway taking him to the rear of the basement. I heard a door
open, a light turn on, and then the door close again.

"He okay?" Sarah asked.

"I guess something didn't agree with
him."

Sarah was puzzled, but said nothing else.

After a few minutes, I decided to go check on
him while the rest of the family talked to one another.

I rapped lightly on the door.

"You okay?" He moaned. I quietly turned the
knob and opened the bathroom door to see Justin kneeling before the
toilet bowl. I closed the door behind me.

"Stomach upset?" I asked. He nodded slowly,
and then began to retch. More of his dinner erupted over his lips
and into the bowl.

"Yeah. You can't eat like you used to
anymore. Not dead meat, at least."

"This sucks," he said.

"I know. But hey, think of all those cows,
piggies, and birds that you'll be saving by going vegetarian!"

"Dante?"

"What up?"

"I don't know if you noticed this, but we
drink people."

"True! But most of the time, they live! Isn't
that awesome? We are like the most peaceful, symbiotic beings on
the planet."

Justin began to gag once more. He vomited
again.

"Oh, God," Justin said.

"It's going to be okay."

"I'm really going to miss bacon."

I sighed and ran my fingers through his
afro.

Hours later, after Justin's stomach settled,
it was time to get back on the road. We watched as Justin gave his
awkward goodbyes to his siblings and gave warm hugs and kisses to
his nieces and nephews. He shook his dad's hand and patted him on
the shoulder.

"Justin, can I talk to you a second before
you leave?" Mrs. Kena asked him.

"Sure. Guys, I'll be in the car in a
second."

"Aight," I said. We stepped outside but
stopped on the porch so we could strain to listen to what they were
saying in the foyer of the house. Our hearing was better than most,
but hearing through a thick mahogany door was still a
challenge.

"What's going on with you?" she asked.

"What?"

"You heard me, boy. I said what's going on
with you?"

"Nothing's been going on with me, Ma."

"You lost fifty pounds."

"It's more like thirty."

"You need a haircut."

"I'm growing it out."

"You have these friends I don't know
about."

"They're nice."

"You're throwing up dinner."

"Stomach bug."

"Now you tell me…"

"What?"

"What exactly is wrong with you?"

"Nothing at all is wrong with me, woman!
Can't you just be glad that I'm back home?"

"It just seems odd that you lost your job and
bounced back so quickly."

"The Foundation for Community Justice
believes in me and gave me the pay I deserve. And I still send some
back home every month."

"You do."

"Ma. I'm fine. Trust me! You know I never
been big on having a whole lot of friends. These dudes are
different. They watch out for me. Helped me get in shape. Gave me
confidence. They're family away from home."

"You still have a family here
at
home,
you know."

"I know, ma. You know I love all of y'all,
right?"

"I know. Just…just be careful, okay?"

"I'm always careful. You know that. Listen,
we should get on the road. I love you, Ma."

"I love you, Justin."

We hurriedly went to the car and waited for
Justin as though we hadn't been eavesdropping on the whole
conversation.

"He's loyal," Victor said softly.

"I know," I said. "He knows how dangerous it
is for them to know."

"Y'all ready?" Justin asked happily, as he
got in the car and put the key in the ignition. As he pulled off,
he asked Victor how he enjoyed himself.

"It was fine," Victor sighed.

"Well, I'm glad you came, Victor. Both of
you. I really am glad."

"Really?" Victor asked.

"Really. I know you, of all people, didn't
have to."

"You're not all bad, Justin," Victor
admitted.

"Thanks," Justin said.

"I'm still going to have to kick your ass,"
Victor said matter-of-factly.

"Oh, this big 'fight' y'all keep talking
about," Justin laughed.

"It's not funny," I interjected. "Every
Razadi boy has this moment."

"Son, I am a grown ass man," Justin
sniped.

"Yes, you are, but you still have to go
through this. This is the most important fight of your life. It's
not just a street fight. This is a very solemn, ritualistic
occasion. This is how we know whether this life has really chosen
you. You won't really be one of us without it."

"Not really one of you? I'm already out this
bitch drinking sorority girls and crackheads. I got all the
memories. The big ones, at least."

"That's true," I said. "But you're still not
feeling what I'm saying."

"So I'm going to get beat in, like a gang?"
Justin asked.

"Not at all. This is like your final exam,
your graduation day, your bar mitzvah. It's a rite of passage."

"Okay," Justin said softly. "I…uh…I'm sorry I
didn't take it seriously."

"All this shit you've been going through, it
will all come together," Victor said. "And you might not win, but
you better give me one hell of a fight."

"What happens if I don't win?" Justin
asked.

"You die," Victor said, yawning and laying
back down in the backseat.

"Oh, is that all?" Justin asked
sarcastically.

"No. He's for real," I said softly. Justin
looked at me askance.

"Oh."

"Do your best. That's all I can ask."

"And I guess my best is all I can give." His
frown remained on his face for a hundred more miles. When we pulled
over to switch drivers, again in Pennsylvania, he pushed me up
against the side of the car and put his arms around me.

"You know I love you, right?" he asked. His
face was just a few inches away from mine.

"I know. I love you, too."

He kissed me tenderly.

"I want to show you something," he said.

"What?" I asked. He cradled my face in his
hands, closed his eyes, and leaned into me until our foreheads
touched. My body was filled with a rush of emotions and memories
all at once.

He was a baby, toddling through the skinny
trees on his family's property, running, tripping, falling.

He was teased by his older brothers, ignored
by his sisters.

He gripped his mother's apron strings,
clinging to her for emotional support and strength.

He was torn away from her by his father
making him "man up."

He manned up, all the way through school,
making few friends along the way.

He manned up, earning the good grades that
got him through school.

He manned up, when he was molested by his
camp counselor, and told no one.

He bravely came out, only for his family not
to care, not to offer a word of encouragement or the investment of
bigotry. Just…nothing.

He was the last to leave the house and he
never came back.

He studied, he partied, he studied, he
partied. He drifted.

He loved. He loved often. He loved hard. But
there was never a person who gave him what he needed. Never a
person who allowed him to say it, to say the words.

And then I saw myself, and all memories
slowed. I saw myself on the corner, peddling bootleg movies,
waiting, waiting, hoping, smiling, meeting, loving, loving,
loving.

Ipsaji.

I separated from Justin and gasped.

"How'd you learn how to do that?" I asked,
breathless.

"It's in my blood," he smiled.

I washed Justin's hair and spent the better
part of the hour twisting it into baby dreadlocks in preparation
for the fight of his life. He sat between my legs as I worked and I
could practically hear his heart beating with anticipation. We did
not use products from the store for our hair care. Everything we
put onto or into our bodies came from the earth if we could help
it, and directly from our garden if possible.

I anointed Justin with the natural oils that
my people had used in their hair for centuries. These oils, these
herbs, these roots—they were a tradition, passed on from parent to
child, and now from brother to brother.

"But God, I fear nothing. But God, I fear
nothing. But God, I fear nothing…"

"Justin, look into my eyes. Say it
again."

"But God, I fear nothing."

"Do you believe that?" I asked. He
nodded.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I was made in God's image."

"What else?"

"Because I was destined to do great things.
Because I was born a human and made a Razadi. I will win because
God ordains it."

"Praise Olódùmarè," I whispered.

"Praise God," Justin replied. I patted his
back and he stood up, looking at his hair in the mirror.

"Take off your clothes," I instructed. Justin
complied, peeling out of his Syracuse t-shirt and unbuckling his
belt. His now too-loose jeans easily fell to the floor and he
stepped out of them. I grabbed the pot of warm balm from the stove
and hurried to the dining room.

He stood before me in his navy blue boxer
briefs. I paused just to stare at him from behind. He was a new man
entirely. Lean. Defined. Upright and confident. He sensed me
standing there and looked at me over his shoulder. He grinned.

"This mixture is one hundred percent
natural," I said.

"What's in it?"

"Belladonna is the main ingredient.
Nightshade. It's toxic to humans. But the smell of it to
Razadi…well, let's just say it's a sign that you're ready to
fight."

"Okay. It smells good," he exhaled. I
gathered the creamy balm in my hands and rubbed some into Justin's
hands. Together, we rubbed it into his skin.

"It's warm," he said.

"It's supposed to be. It will relax you."

He exhaled again. We rubbed the lotion over
his entire body, recreating a ritual I had gone through myself
hundreds of years ago with my kinsmen. By the time we were done,
his body glistened like a bronze statue.

"What's next?" he asked.

"Your clothes." From the duffel bag I had
under the dining room table, I produced our simple, pure white
initiatory garments.

I wrapped a plain white swath of fabric
around his waist and hips several times, tucking here and draping
there. I tucked the corner in, then pinned it with a safety pin.
His boxer briefs peeked out of the bottom.

"Is that it? It's awfully short."

"It's a
shendyt
."

"It's really soft."

"Egyptian cotton."

"Nice. So…is this it?"

"Just this and your cloak." I pulled it out
of the bag and unfurled it. Made from the same fabric as the
shendyt
, it fell easily over his shoulders and almost
touched the floor. The oversized hood obscured most of his face,
except for his nose and lips.

"You're ready," I said. "Let's go."

I walked out the back door toward the
driveway where the van was parked. I unlocked the deadbolt and
opened the door before I noticed Justin wasn't behind me.

"Justin? You coming?"

He stood in the dining room with his cloak
on. I touched his shoulder. He looked up at me.

"Are you okay? Are you ready for this?"

"But God, I fear nothing. But God, I fear
nothing."

I nodded.

"Let's go. You got this."

.

At around three o'clock in the morning when
we slowly drove up North Capitol Street and pulled a sharp left
into the abandoned McMillan Sand Filtration Site. The usually
closed and locked fence was wide open for us.

"Why are we here?" Justin peered out of the
back window of the van.

"This is where you're going to fight
Victor."

"But…but this…this is where I was attacked,
Dante. I'm not ready."

"Yes, you are." I pulled the van close to one
of the ivy-overgrown brick buildings that resembled a short, fat
smokestack.

"Justin, listen to me," I said, putting the
car in park and shutting off the engine. I slid between the seats
and got into the back with him. His face was still obscured by the
white hood.

"There are three things you need to know and
you need to know them right now. First things first. I have lived
for hundreds of years, and I have to tell you I am not exaggerating
when I say there has been nobody in my life quite like you. Nobody.
You hear me? And I've seen the world. It is my job to take care of
you. But I don't have to love my job. Justin, there's no better way
to say it: I love you. I love everything about you. I love the way
you blush when I compliment you. I love the way I can hear your
heart beating faster when I enter the room. I love the way you
smell when we make love. The way you chew, the way you brush your
hair, the way you talk to your mom on the phone. I love it all. I
love
you
. I
love
you."